Chapter Twenty Two – Seoul Friday
Elena Archer – Hotel Room 1004, Friday Morning
Dawn painted Seoul in gold.
I blinked awake to a soft murmur of sound—nothing but the faint tick of a clock and the hum of traffic far below. Aleks’s suite was glowing, light spilling in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. His arm was slung across my waist, warm and heavy, anchoring me in place.
For a moment, I didn’t move.
He was still asleep—face relaxed, jaw shadowed, lashes dark against his cheek. The bruising on his face had deepened overnight, a mottled reminder of everything that had brought us here.
My phone on the nightstand buzzed with a calendar alert:Breakfast – Graham – 08:00.
Shit.
Carefully, I slid out from under his arm, wincing as the sheets whispered traitorously. He stirred but didn’t wake.
I sat on the edge of the bed, trying not to think too hard about what we’d done. Again.
My clothes were scattered like a breadcrumb trail—top near the minibar, jeans on the back of a chair, bra inexplicably halfway across the room. I pulled them on quickly, smoothing my hair with my fingers and glancing toward the mirror. I looked exactly how I felt—rumpled, flushed, guilty in a way that had nothing to do with shame and everything to do with reality.
This wasn’t just sex.
It hadn’t been, either time.
It might be easier if that was all it was, but we both knew it was vastly more complicated.
I reached the door before I heard him shift.
“Elena?”
I paused. Hand on the handle. I turned slowly.
He was sitting up now, bare chest half-covered by the white sheet, hair deliciously tousled, eyes still soft with sleep. But his voice was clearer than I expected. Measured.
“You’re leaving?”
I nodded. “Didn’t want to risk the walk of shame in front of half the paddock.”
His mouth twitched—just the ghost of a smile. “Probably smart.”
I hesitated. “I don’t regret it. Any of it.”
“I know.” He met my eyes. “Neither do I.”
Silence stretched, weighty.
“But we can’t pretend this is simple,” I said.
“No.” His expression flickered. “We really can’t.”
Another pause. Then, gently: “Be careful today.”
“I will.”
I opened the door.
“Text me later?” he added, quietly.
